


Fragments of a Troubled Soul

by AnyaYanko



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Abuse, Adolescent Sexuality, Daemons, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:13:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25629508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnyaYanko/pseuds/AnyaYanko
Summary: A boy, a lion and a snake. Three souls tied together by destiny and then torn apart.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore & Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore/Harry Potter, Harry Potter & His Daemon
Comments: 28
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another one! We the best fanfics! 
> 
> Okay, I might not continue with this one but I enjoyed playing around with the idea.

  
‘She’s beautiful,’ Ron said, admiring the long, lithe lion. ‘Has she settled already?’

Harry did not correct him. ‘Yes. Nearly a year ago.’ He reached down to scratch Rowan’s back, warning him not to give the game away. ‘Early settler.’ 

Ron whistled. ‘Lucky. Most of my brother’s were early settlers too. I don’t think Delilah will ever settle.’ 

As if in agreement the little badger in Ron’s lap transformed itself into a bright red fox. She smirked in satisfaction, jumped down and padded over to Rowan, nose twitching. Harry tightened his grip on Rowan’s fur and waited, tensely, as the other daemon sniffed.

‘Any idea what house you’ll be in?’ He asked loudly. 

Ron’s face darkened and Delilah’s bushy tail drooped. She turned back into a badger and retreated behind her human’s legs. 

‘I dunno,’ Ron said gloomily. ‘My whole family’s been in Gryffindor, but I’m afraid we’re gonna end up in Hufflepuff. That’s why - ‘ he indicated the badger. ‘I suppose you can be pretty confident about where you’re going what with that lion. Guaranteed Gryffindor.’ 

‘You think?’ Harry asked uncertainly. 

‘Absolutely! Can’t see you and that daemon going into Slytherin, can you?’ 

Harry guessed not. ‘Are there a lot of snakes in Slytherin then?’ He asked. ‘Snake daemons, I mean.’ 

‘Oh yeah! I mean Slytherin’s own daemon was a snake so it makes sense, doesn’t it? Those who don’t have snakes all have something nasty.’ 

‘And are there many lions in Gryffindor?’ 

Harry had never met anyone else with a lion daemon. Wolves were quite commonplace and he’d even seen a man with a bear daemon once but never a lion. 

‘No. I think there’s only been six or seven in all the time since the school was founded. They’re supposed to be really rare, aren’t they?’

‘Even among wizards?’ 

‘Yeah,’ Ron sighed. ‘You’ve got to be really strong and brave to have something like a lion.’ He blushed a little and averted his eyes. ‘You’re really lucky.’ 

Harry had never thought of himself as “lucky” before. While he’d always known that he was _different_ , it was only recently that he’d discovered that he was special in good ways, as well as bad. He hoped that at Hogwarts everyone would see him as Ron did, as someone wonderful to be envied. 

‘I hope I am a Gryffindor,’ he said softly. ‘And you too.’

‘Yeah.’ Ron glanced down doubtfully at his badger daemon. ‘Well, better Hufflepuff than Slytherin anyway.’

Harry murmured vaguely and picked up the chocolate frog card again. The famous wizard smiled up at him benignly, eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles. He wished the card showed more. There was no sign of the man’s daemon in the frame.

‘What sort of - ‘ He began to ask, but the carriage door flew open and he was interrupted by the appearance of three boys. 

Two were strangers to Harry. Big and brawny, with grim expressions and wolf daemons. The other was the pale, pointy-faced boy that Harry had met in Madam Malkin’s robe shop. His daemon had assumed the form of wolf too and was stalking out in front; the leader of the pack. 

‘Is it true?’ Draco asked. ‘They’re all saying down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment. So it’s you, is it?’ 

His daemon approached Harry eagerly, eyes glistening with interest. The two of them seemed a lot more impressed with him than they had been in the robe shop. 

Harry confirmed that it was true and listened impatiently as Draco attempted to ingratiate himself, boasting about his family and their connections. He casually insulted Ron in the process, making Rowan growl. 

‘I think,’ Harry said cooly, ‘that I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks.’ 

After that, things escalated quickly, with all three wolves growling and snarling and threats flying freely. Perhaps Draco didn’t mean for things to go further than that, but Rowan was used to getting in fights and didn’t intimidate easily. 

He pulled himself up to his full height and roared loudly at the two wolves, who seemed to shrink several sizes. The matted grey one appeared to have a little more courage than the other, for he bared his teeth again and leapt forward.

‘Just you try it,’ Rowan growled. ‘I’ll tear you to pieces you mangy little mongrels!’ 

At the deep, rumbling sound of Rowan’s voice the whole carriage went quiet. Harry dug his fingers deep into Rowan’s fur, bracing himself for attack, but the wolves stayed where they were, rooted to the spot. Above them, Crabbe and Goyle both gaped at Harry open-mouthed.

‘Potter!’ Draco gasped.‘Your daemon’s MALE?!’ He seemed just as shocked as the others.

Harry saw no point in denying it. They had all heard Rowan speak and now the other daemon’s nostrils were flaring, scenting him out. 

‘Yeah?’ Harry said. ‘So what?!’ 

He knew they could all see through his bluster. He was shaking all over and his face felt like it was on fire. 

‘I can’t believe it,’ Draco muttered. ‘The Great Harry Potter.’ He took a step closer. ‘Who would have thought it? A great big - ‘

‘You watch your mouth!’ Ron said, leaping to his feet, wand trained on Draco. 

‘But look!’ Draco said, pointing at Harry’s Daemon. ‘His daemon’s male! He must be!’ He turned his attention to Harry, coldly curious. ‘He doesn’t look like one, I grant you. I always thought they were, well, really girly. Father always said that’s what they’re like. Effeminate. Like a woman, on the inside. Perhaps you just hide it well?’

Ron was shaking with anger. ‘You don’t know anything about it!’ He shouted. ‘Leave us alone!’ Delilah took the form of a Eagle and started swirling around their heads, shrieking loudly. 

Draco gave him a pitying look. ‘Are you his boyfriend then, Weasley? Are you going to let him cry on your shoulder and kiss you goodnight?’ 

Ron flinched. ‘No, I - I’m not - ‘

‘I bet he thinks you are,’ Draco continued gleefully. ‘I bet he’s already falling for you. He’ll be making his move soon enough. Groping at you in the showers! Trying to crawl into your bed! Just you watch out!’ 

He began to laugh - a cruel, jeering laugh - which suddenly turned into a scream. Rowan had leapt on Draco’s daemon and clamped his jaws about her leg. Squealing in terror, Draco’s daemon began panic-shifting between different forms - a cat, a rat, a ferret - in a desperate bid to escape. Rowan held her right until she became a sparrow and flew away fast. 

‘You’ll be for it now, Potter!’ Malfoy yelled. ‘Just wait until everyone hears how you attacked me! You’ll be expelled as soon as you get to school and they’ll say it’s for the best. You shouldn’t be allowed around normal boys.’ 

The carriage door slammed shut behind him. 

Delilah came to settle on a Ron’s shoulder and he stroked her absently. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ He whispered. 

‘I didn’t want anyone to know,’ Harry replied. ‘I thought we could keep it a secret, if only Rowan kept quiet.’

Rowan bowed his head guiltily. 

‘I suppose someone would have noticed eventually though.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll understand if you don’t want to be my friend anymore.’ 

Ron was still very pink but he snorted dismissively. ‘Don’t be daft. I’m not going to stop talking to you just because of idiots like Malfoy.’ 

‘I promise I’m not going to start trying to kiss you or whatever,’ Harry said earnestly. ‘I just want to be friends. I don’t like, fancy you or anything.’ 

‘I know,’ Ron said quickly, still rather pink. ‘Me too. Want to be friends, I mean.’ 

He reached out a hand and gave Harry a reassuring pat on the shoulder, blushing crimson as he did so. Such a small gesture, and yet it made Harry almost want to cry. No one had ever been on his side like this. 

‘Thanks,’ was all he said, as gruff as his Daemon. 

**

‘Harry Potter,’ Professor McGonagall called out to him. ‘Please, stay behind a moment.’

Harry shot a nervous glance at Ron and made his way up to her desk. McGonagall waited until the last student had gone before saying, ‘You’re to go to the Headmaster’s office before lunch. He would like to speak to you.’ 

‘Why, what have I done?’ Harry panicked. His thoughts flew to the unfortunate encounter on the train. Draco Malfoy must have told someone about it. He’d definitely told tales to the other Slytherins. They’d all been jeering at him.

‘You’re not in trouble,’ McGonagall assured him. ‘Professor Dumbledore just wants to make sure you’re settling in alright.’

That was it then. He knew all about it. Harry cringed at the prospect of the interview. It would be just like primary school all over again. The teachers had kept trying to talk to Harry about the bullying. As if they could do anything about it. Harry just wanted to be left alone. 

‘I’m fine, really.’ 

Professor McGonagall’s lips twitched. ‘I’m sure,’ she said, not unkindly. ‘Tell the headmaster that.’

Harry sighed and followed her through the school. 

‘This is it,’ McGonagall declared as they came to a large, stone gargoyle. ‘I just need the password. Brighton Rock.’ 

The gargoyle leapt aside, revealing a hidden staircase, and Professor McGonagall nudged him forward. ‘Up you go, Potter.’

The headmaster’s office was very handsomely decorated with lots of bright gold and silver devices humming with magic. The headmaster was smiling at him from behind his great desk and his daemon was sat on a perch beside him.

It was a Phoenix with magnificent red and gold plumage. Harry gazed at it in wonder for several seconds before recovering himself. 

‘Hello,’ He said shyly to the Phoenix daemon. ‘I - I’m sorry for staring. I’ve just never seen a Phoenix before.’ 

‘There’s no need to apologise,’ Dumbledore said. ‘Fawkes is a rather vain little thing. He loves to be looked at and admired.’ He smiled when he saw Harry’s expression. ‘Yes, Fawkes is male. I understand you and I have that in common.’ 

Harry and Rowan glanced at each other. ‘Yeah,’ Harry breathed. ‘How did you - ?’

‘Students talk,’ Dumbledore explained, ‘and I am compelled to listen. Although a great deal is merely gossip. I am experienced enough to sort the fact from the fiction.’  
  
He came out from behind his desk and approached the perch with his arm outstretched. Fawkes jumped onto it and nuzzled affectionately at the old man’s beard. 

‘I always say, there’s no greater love than the love we share with our Daemons. Don’t you agree?’

Harry shrugged, embarrassed. He’d never seen an adult be so affectionate with their daemon before. The Dursleys hardly ever glanced at their own daemons. Their animal companions trotted after them meekly and mutely without ever being acknowledged, or else curled up in the corner of the room, out of the way. 

‘Why don’t you take a seat?’ Dumbledore suggested, gesturing at the cosy little seating area in the corner of the office. 

‘Er, thanks.’ 

Harry took an armchair while Dumbledore sat down cross-legged on the floor. 

‘I imagine that you must have many questions for me,’ he said cheerily. ‘Please, go ahead. I promise I won’t be embarrassed or offended whatever you ask.’ 

Harry felt too tongue-tied to speak. It was Rowan who asked, ‘Are there any other students like us?’ 

Dumbledore smiled and shook his head. ‘Not at present. I’m afraid that our kind are very rare indeed. I’m only aware of half a dozen gay wizards besides myself. Not nearly enough to form any sort of community.’ 

Harry’s heart sank. ‘Oh. I didn’t realise.’ Although he’d never met anyone like himself in the muggle world, he’d hoped that there might be more amongst witches and wizards. As foolish as it had been, he had nursed a private dream of entering a different world where he would - finally - belong. 

‘I can see this news has upset you,’ Dumbledore said gently. ‘It is very hard to be different, with no one to relate to. I expect you are also worried about falling in love. I will frank with you, it will be almost impossible to find a partner in the wizarding world. Our numbers are just too few. You shall have to date muggles if you wish to find someone.’ 

Dumbledore tilted his head slightly, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. ‘I assume you have no objection to that?’

‘No, no - of course not.’ 

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Dumbledore ruffled his phoenix’s feathers. ‘Too many wizards look down upon muggles and refuse to consider even socialising with them, let alone dating them. A ridiculous position, given the scarcity of witches and wizards. Even if intermarriage were not necessary, it’s madness to restrict one’s choices and risk losing a better, happier match.’

Harry blushed. ‘We can’t get married though. Not to - ‘ 

‘Not to men, No.’ Dumbledore chuckled. ‘One day, perhaps, when the law catches up. Until then all you can have is a lover, though that is more than enough.’

Harry smiled shyly, ducking his head down. Rowan bristled with excitement. 

‘Have you had many?’ He asked. ‘Lovers, I mean.’ 

‘A few,’ Dumbledore smiled fondly. ‘When I was younger.’ 

‘What’s it like?’ 

‘Rowan!’ Harry hissed. ‘I’m sorry, Professor. We really don’t need to know that.’ 

‘It’s okay to be curious,’ Dumbledore said kindly. ‘I told you that you could ask anything.’ He turned to address Rowan directly. ‘I don’t think you want all the details. Suffice to say, that being with someone you’re truly attracted to is incredibly satisfying. There’s no rulebook for sex between men, though there are a few obvious acts that most lovers like to indulge in. Oral sex, Anal sex and mutual masturbation.’ 

His blue eyes flickered between Harry and his daemon. ‘Do you know what those terms mean?’ 

Harry shifted uncomfortably, his face aflame. 

‘No,’ Rowan said bravely. ‘I think oral means ... with the mouth?’ 

Dumbledore nodded. ‘Yes. It means stimulating the genitals with the mouth. While mutual masturbation is stimulating the genitals by hand. I am sure you have some idea what anal sex is - boys like to focus on the most, uh, extreme acts when they talk about sex. That is penetration of the anus by the genitals.’

He smiled kindly. ‘Please tell me if any of these words are unfamiliar to you. When talking about sex it’s usually easier to use the correct scientific terms. I am quite happy to talk about bums and willies though if that’s better for you.’ 

Harry let out a startled burble of laughter. After that, he felt brave enough to ask a question of his own. 

‘Why are our daemons male?’ He looked down at Rowan. ‘I’ve always heard people say it’s because we’re more like women on the inside but I don’t feel any different from the other boys.’ 

‘Some gay men are more in touch in their feminine side than others,’ Dumbledore said. ‘I, myself, have rather, er, flamboyant tastes, more common to women than men. However, I’ve always thought that it’s a more subtle matter of balance. Our daemons often act as a counterweight, manifesting the parts of ourself that are buried deep. That’s why they can often appear to have quite different personalities to us.’

He smiled meaningfully at Rowan who stretched out his paws and purred. 

‘They also represent what we want in a partner. For straight men, that’s a female companion. For us, a male one.’ 

‘Why?’ Harry pressed. ‘I would love Rowan just as much if he were female.’ 

‘Perhaps,’ Dumbledore said. ‘But a very crucial part of you can only imagine being truly, deeply intimate with a male. Even from birth, that is something your daemon knows. That is why it takes the form of a male. Our Daemons wish to be compatible with us, you see. They do everything they can to make us love them.’

He gazed down at Harry, a slight crease appearing in the centre of his forehead. ‘Does that make sense to you?’

‘I guess so,’ Harry mumbled. ‘I just ... don’t see why it has to be like that.’ 

‘Ah!’ Dumbledore leant back on his arms. ‘You wish you could be like everyone else. Then people wouldn’t know, just by looking at you, what hides inside your heart.’ He shook his head. ‘Unfortunately, Harry, that is not the world we live in and I for one am glad of it. There is too much deception amongst humans already and if we did not have tangible proof of our true natures we would find it all too easy to deceive ourselves.’ 

Fawkes jumped up onto Dumbledore’s lap and nuzzled into his beard, practically making a nest out of the long, white hair. Dumbledore caressed him tenderly. 

‘I know it’s hard to be the object of ridicule, Harry, but whatever happens you must never turn your anger inwards. If you start to resent your own daemon, you’ll never truly be happy.’ 

Harry was shocked. ‘I’d never resent Rowan,’ he said, reaching for the lion. ‘How could I? He’s part of me!’ 

‘You’d be surprised,’ Dumbledore said softly. ‘Some people really hate themselves and that hatred usually destroys them.’ 

‘You must always love and support each other,’ Fawkes said suddenly, speaking for the first time, his voice sweet and musical. ‘Look out for each other. You’re on the same team, after all.’ 

It was strange to hear such a young, bright voice coming out of Dumbledore’s daemon, when he was such an old wizard himself, but when Harry looked at him again, propped up on the floor, it seemed entirely appropriate. 

‘I think you and Rowan have a very good, natural bond,’ Dumbledore said happily. ‘I shan’t worry too much about you. Now, if there isn’t anything else you wish to ask, I will say good day to you. Thank you for coming to speak with me.’

He patted Harry on the shoulder as he was leaving, while Fawkes flew around Rowan chirruping affectionately. It made Harty blush and look away, while Rowan purred delightedly. 

**

‘I like the headmaster so much,’ Rowan whispered to Harry that night as they lay in bed. ‘He’s so different to how I imagined. Very kind and rather silly!’ 

‘Yes, I know.’ Harry whispered back. ‘Isn’t it strange that he should be like us? Someone so powerful and famous.’ 

‘Gay,’ Rowan put in. ‘That’s the word he used and we should use it too. Anyway, why shouldn’t someone like that be gay? And we’re famous too, in case you forgot!’ 

Harry shivered and huddled closer. ‘I do forget, sometimes. I’m still not used to it. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to calling myself gay. It sounds like an insult.’ 

‘It’s not an insult,’ Rowan rumbled. ‘You just feel like it is because everyone always used to yell it at us as if it was. It doesn’t mean anything bad though. Not really. There’s nothing wrong with us.’ 

‘No,’ Harry agreed. ‘Not if Dumbledore’s like that too.’

‘Gay!’ Rowan growled. 

‘Alright, alright!’ Harry grumbled. ‘I’m just saying being gay can’t really such a bad thing if Dumbledore is too. You know what a great man he is. I guess no one minds about the other stuff.’ 

‘Maybe it’s just kids who mind,’ Rowan suggested. ‘Maybe adults know better.’ 

‘Maybe.’ 

Harry shifted his position in the bed, pressing his face deeper into Rowan’s fur. 

‘Do you really think we might have a lover one day?’ He whispered. 

He didn’t really need to keep his voice down - George Weasley had shown them all how to put a silencing spell on the bed curtains to shut out the noise. Harry was just paranoid about being overheard. Besides, it felt wrong to be speaking too proudly about something so private and sensitive. 

‘Why not?’ Rowan whispered back. ‘It would be good wouldn’t it? Even if he’s not a wizard.’ 

Harry furled and unfurled his toes. ‘What do you think he’ll be like?’ He breathed. 

It was not the first time they’d played this game. In secret, they had whispered about their dream lover many times in the past year. The imaginings slowly growing more and more vivid and detailed until they became something more primal and physical. 

‘He’ll be strong and tall,’ Rowan murmured, in his deep masculine purr. ‘Lean muscle all over and long, thick hair. But he’ll be gentle and so sweet. He’ll kiss us softly on the lips and the throat and hold us a long, long time before touching anywhere else.’ 

Harry sighed and slid his hand inside his pyjamas bottoms. ‘He’ll have a beard,’ he invented. ‘All soft and thick, like his hair, and it’ll rub against our skin as he kisses us.’ 

They continued to whisper back and forth as Harry began stroking himself, until the words were not enough and they lapsed into telepathy. Rowan moving into his familiar position at Harry’s back, curling himself around him and sinking into all the recesses of his body. He licked at Harry’s neck and panted along with him as they indulged in the fantasy. 

A beautiful man lying on top of Harry moving against him - inside him - while his large furry daemon twined around Rowan, nuzzling and licking and biting. 

Rowan rutted against Harry’s back in tandem with his frantic pumps, his own lump of manhood poking at his pyjamas, and growled loudly as Harry came. Harry shivered and started scrabbling around for a sock or something to clean himself up. As always, he felt both pleased and ashamed in the aftermath of his climax.

It wasn’t as bad as it had been at Privet Drive, where Harry had moved in complete silence, stifling the gasps and groans of his daemon, terrified of being overheard. Who knew what his aunt and uncle would have done if they ever caught him at it? They knew what he was as well as anyone. They would have known what he thought about. Dirty little boy. Freak. Pervert. 

At Hogwarts Harry felt a little freer. A little safer. He still worried about what the other boys would think if they knew what he did in the dead of night. He suspected the only way they could accept him was if he pretended he felt nothing at all. Completely disinterested in sex. Sweet, naive and clueless. Otherwise, they would be nervous around him. They would look at him like he was a predator; a wolf in a flock of lambs. 

Now though, Harry knew he wasn’t entirely alone. Albus Dumbledore, the Great Headmaster of Hogwarts, was like him. _Gay_. And no one shrank away from him. No one was scared to stand too close, as if he were contagious. He was loved and admired by everyone and did not seem ashamed. 

‘Do you think Dumbledore does this too?’ Rowan whispered, his breath hot on Harry’s ear. 

‘I don’t know,’ Harry mumbled. ‘What do you mean? Touch himself?’ 

Rowan wriggled against him, tucking his muzzle into Harry’s shoulder and pressing a paw to his back. ‘I’m sure he must do.’ 

‘He’s very old,’ Harry countered.

‘He still has feelings,’ Rowan insisted. ‘Do you think he does it like us though? Together?’

Harry tensed. ‘You mean, him and his daemon?’ his whispered, in an especially small voice. They never talked about this. ‘I don’t know about that either. Fawkes isn’t big, like you. It’d be pretty hard to cuddle up with him.’ 

‘Perhaps he lies against his chest though?’ Rowan suggested. ‘Or sort of nests in his hair? You saw how he wrapped himself up in his beard today.’ 

‘Maybe,’ Harry sighed. ‘Fawkes couldn’t lick at his face though, like you do, or - you know.’ 

He had no words for the way Rowan folded his body against his, moving with him. Sometimes it felt as though he was about to sink into him. Not _fuck_ him. They never thought about trying that. It would be too weird. More like he was simply going dissolve into his body until they were one being. Rowan nestled inside his ribcage, against his pounding heart. 

‘He’d still feel it though.’ Rowan said. ‘He’d feel everything. Even if he made him sit at the other corner of the room and face the wall - as I bet Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia do - He’d still feel it.’ 

Harry screwed up his face. ‘Don’t talk about Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia doing it. It’s too gross. They can’t do it. Not ever!’ 

‘They must have done it once!’ Rowan said, in a sing-song voice. ‘They made Dudley.’ 

Harry rolled over and squeezed his daemon tight. ‘Shut it!’ He growled. ‘As far as I’m concerned it was an immaculate conception.’ 

For a while, they lay together in silence, Harry petting at Rowan’s fur absently. He couldn’t imagine ever not having his daemon beside him in bed. He knew some people had their daemons sleep separately in little beds and baskets. The thought repulsed him. 

‘Do you think the other boys do it?’ Rowan whispered. He was especially thoughtful tonight. Which was only to be expected, given their meeting with Dumbledore. 

‘Wank? Yes. With their daemons? I’m not sure.’ He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. ‘I never know what other people are like. What’s normal.’ He thought for a while. ‘I suppose they must do.’

‘Hmmm,’ Rowan rumbled. 

Harry snuggled into his mane. ‘Let’s go to sleep.’ 

**

Harry didn’t know what he had expected to find behind Quirrell’s turban, but it was not this.

He stared at the chalk-white face, transfixed in horror. He knew at once that this was the creature he had seen in the Forbidden Forest and understood why he had found it so monstrous. For this man was just a face on the back of Quirrell’s head; he had no daemon. 

‘Harry Potter,’ said the half-man, in an unearthly whisper. ‘See what I have become? Mere shadow and vapour ... ‘

Harry shook his head, appalled. He tried to back away towards the door, but Quirrell leapt at him, hand closing about Harry’s throat, pinning him against the floor. Harry choked and panted, struggling hopelessly. Then the man recoiled, shrieking in pain. 

‘Master, I cannot hold him - my hands - my hands!’ 

His skin had started to blister and burn, as though they’d just been plunged in a fire. Harry didn’t understand. It must be strange, dark magic of some sort. He had performed it without even meaning to. 

‘Kill him then!’ Voldemort screamed impatiently. ‘Kill him and be done!’ 

Quirrell raised his wand to cast a killing curse, but then let out a fresh scream of pain. In that split second of confusion, Rowan had taken to opportunity to pounce on Quirrell’s shrew daemon and now held her tight between his jaws. She was shrieking and squirming in fear, her little tailing whipping round and round in the air. 

One good bite would have finished her off. 

‘Master!’ Quirrell gasped. ‘I can’t! My Cassandra!’ 

‘He’s not going to kill her!’ Voldemort cried contemptuously. ‘He’s just a weak, frightened little boy. A coward, just like his parents. Aren’t you - Harry Potter?’ 

Rowan growled in defiance. He was quivering with fear, but he stood his ground. When Quirrell raised his wand again he began to slam the shew against the floor, bashing her little body on the stones. 

Quirrell let out a blood-curdling scream and fell to his knees. It looked like at least two of the shrew’s legs were broken. They stuck out odd angles, limp and crumpled. Harry felt sick and ashamed at the sight of them.

‘Master!’ Quirrell gasped. 

‘Get up, you fool!’ Voldemort yelled. ‘Your legs are fine! If only you hadn’t been too weak to heed my advice you might have been spared this pain. Now - take the daemon!’ 

Quirrell whimpered and threw himself across the stones, arms outstretched. Harry thought that he was trying to free the shrew, and Rowan’s jaw tightened, but then his hands landed on Rowan’s fur. 

Rowan opened his mouth in shock, setting the shrew free, and Harry let out a strangled little wail. Those hands! Those vile, filthy hands! He could feel them on his own flesh as surely as they were pushing their way underneath his clothes. His insides writhed and his skin crawled, convulsing at the wrongness of it. 

Rowan went limp, unable to fight or protest as Quirrell lifted him up in the air. Panting, the man shifted his hands, tightening his hold about Rowan’s waist, making the whole sensation a hundred times worse. 

‘No,’ Harry whispered, his voice little more than a breath. ‘How - how could you?’ 

A cruel, high pitched laugh echoed in the chamber. ‘How could I? Harry Potter. You silly, little boy. Most people allow themselves to be constrained by the rules they were born into. By what they call, _The Natural Order_. But the truly strong know how to defy such things.’ 

Harry thought he might pass out from the shock. Rowan’s body was trembling all over, his tail swinging between his legs, his head lolling down. 

‘You see, his flesh doesn’t burn us,’ Voldemort commented conversationally. ‘It is a he, isn’t he? Harry Potter? How interesting.’

Then something very strange happened. Rowan gave an especially violent shudder and changed. Thick golden fur transforming into smooth, shiny scales. Large, gangly limbs lengthening out into a long, long tail. In seconds, Quirrell found himself holding not a lion, but an enormous black snake. 

He looked surprised, though not alarmed. ‘I thought she’d settled,’ he murmured. Miss-gendering Rowan in his confusion. 

Except, no, he wasn’t miss-gendering her at all because somehow - impossibly - Harry’s daemon had also changed sex. She was now a long, beautiful female snake. What’s more, Quirrell’s touch did not seem to be troubling her so badly now. It still felt pretty awful, like being groped by something sick and slimy, but it wasn’t nearly as unbearable as it had been moments earlier. 

Why?

Quirrell leant closer, frowning uncertainly, and Voldemort’s voice came out in a whisper. ‘It can’t be - ‘

The snake opened her eyes slowly, opened her mouth, and sank her long fangs into Quirrell’s hand. Quirrell let out yet another yell of pain and dropped the daemon, instinctively. His burned, blistered skin was already turning purple around the site of the bite. 

‘Poison!’ He gasped. ‘Master - it - it’s poison!’ 

Voldemort started to scream, an inhuman, unearthly scream of which no words were discernible. Except, some sort of incantation that arose again and again. _Morgana, Morgana, Morgana ..._

‘Harry,’ gasped a voice above him. ‘Harry!’ 

A hand was on his shoulder and a small, bright bird was fluttering about his head, it’s sweet song warming thawing the ice in his heart. 

‘It’s alright, Harry.’ 

**

He awoke in the hospital wing, head pounding and limbs numb. 

‘Rowan,’ he croaked. His first thought. 

‘He’s here,’ said a voice. ‘Just here.’ 

Professor Dumbledore was sat beside the bed with Fawkes on his shoulder. Rowan was curled up on Harry’s chest. Still a snake. Still female.

Harry moaned and reached out to take her. 

As soon as he touched the scales they dissolved beneath his fingertips, transforming back to thick gold fur. In a flash he was a lion again, large and heavy against him. Rowan whimpered into Harry’s chest, nuzzling weakly. 

‘I don’t understand,’ Harry said. ‘He’s settled. He shouldn’t be able to change any more.’ 

‘I didn’t mean to,’ Rowan’s said. ‘It just happened when Professor Quirrell touched me. It was like he was tearing something out of me.’

Fawkes leapt down onto the bed, his eyes bright and intent. ‘Tell us exactly what happened.’ 

Harry did his best. He couldn’t remember everything and there was so much he didn’t understand. He managed to remember most of what Voldemort has said though and the strange word he had repeated over and over. 

Dumbledore’s expression grew graver and graver so Harry knew he was not delivering good news. When he was finally done he let out a great sigh. 

‘I have long harboured suspicions that Lord Voldemort experimented with some very dark magic at the height of his powers, intended to make him immortal - or, as close to immortal as any human may be. Now, I am quite sure he succeeded in his attempt.’ 

Harry squeezed Rowan tight. ‘You mean he can never be killed?’ 

Dumbledore hesitated. ‘Not never. It would, however be very difficult.’ 

‘What’s this got to do with Rowan?’

Dumbledore sighed again and ran a hand over his face. ‘I had hoped that I would not need to discuss this matter with you for many, many years. Please, brace yourself, Harry. This will be very difficult to hear.’ 

Harry sat up straight and pulled Rowan closer. The lion was staring at Dumbledore with wide eyes, breathing hard and quick with fear and excitement. 

Dumbledore sat still for a long time, frowning. In the end, it was Fawkes who spoke. 

‘We believe that Lord Voldemort tried to separate himself from his own daemon and ... attach her to something or someone else. So that no one could kill him. He wouldn’t be able to die as long as his daemon was alive elsewhere.’

Fawkes flexed his wings in agitation. ‘Lord Voldemort has always despised the way his daemon makes him vulnerable. He thinks himself above such things. We believe he planned to imprison his daemon in some sort of inanimate object to keep her safe and lock her away for good. However, something went wrong when the cast the spell and his daemon was bound to another human. The nearest living thing.’ 

Harry shivered. ‘I don’t understand,’ he whispered, though a terrible suspicion was creeping over him.

‘Morgana was the name of Voldemort’s daemon,’ Fawkes said softly. ‘We believe that she now resides inside of your daemon. Inside of Rowan.’ 

‘No,’ Harry protested, in a whisper at first, then louder. ‘NO! NO! NO!’ 

‘Harry,’ Dumbledore murmured, taking his hand. ‘You must not be afraid. Morgana has lived with you since you were one year old. She has bonded with you as surely as if you were her own human. I believe she had grown to love you, as her own, and despises Voldemort for what he has done to her.’ 

‘How do you know?’ Rowan asked.

‘Because she bit Quirrell when he tried to take her and then withdrew back inside. She does not want to return to her old master.’ 

Rowan wriggled in Harry’s arms. ‘I can’t feel her,’ he murmured. ‘I felt her, when Quirrell touched me. I felt her unfurl and open her eyes. But now ... I can’t feel anything.’ 

Fawkes gave Rowan a reassuring nuzzle and at the same time Dumbledore stroked Harry’s hand. 

‘I suspect she is sleeping. Not angry, not struggling, but safe inside you. You are a refuge to her. The only instinct she has is to hide within you. The only thing she knows is that you are there to hold her and protect her. The spell would have ensured that, at least.’ 

‘You talk about her like she’s nice,’ Harry said angrily. ‘She’s part of him though. She’s ... evil.’ He looked up at Dumbledore imploringly. ‘Can’t you cut her out again?’ 

Dumbledore’s eyelids dropped. ‘No, I’m sorry Harry. I can’t.’ 

‘So then ... does that mean Voldemort can never die as long as I - we’re alive?’ 

Dumbledore pressed his lips together. 

‘I fear so,’ Fawkes chirped. ‘We can’t be sure, though.’ 

He pressed his beak into Rowan’s mane and nuzzled again. ‘Please, don’t be afraid. We will do everything we can to protect you.’ 

Rowan relaxed as the Phoenix nipped and nudged at him, scratching under his mane at his sensitive skin, and Harry was soothed by it too.

‘Thank you,’ he murmured. 

**

‘Morgana,’ Harry whispered experimentally, once Dumbledore was gone, his eyes trained on his own daemon. ‘Morgana? Morgana.’ 

Rowan whimpered. ‘Don’t!’ 

‘Can you feel her?’ 

‘No.’ Rowan shivered. ‘I think Dumbledore’s right. She’s sleeping. Please, don’t call to her. It’s too creepy.’

Harry put a hand to Rowan’s belly. ‘I can’t believe she’s inside you. Part of you.’

‘She’s not part of me!’ Rowan growled. ‘I’m me - just me!’ He crawled closer to Harry, pushing his face into his throat. ‘You’re not afraid of me are you?’

‘No,’ Harry replied honestly, for how could he ever be afraid of his daemon? 

‘You still love me? Just the same as you ever did.’ 

Harry hesitated. ‘I still love you. It’s weird, though. I feel like we’re being spied on. Like you’ve been bugged or something.’ 

‘I don’t think she listens,’ Rowan said. ‘I think it’s like ... being pregnant or something. She’s there, deep inside, and she can feel everything sort of distantly. Our heartbeat, the warmth of our bodies, our fear and pain and excitement. She doesn’t really know what’s going on though. She can’t do.’ 

Harry considered. ‘Weird,’ he concluded. 

‘Very weird,’ Rowan agreed. ‘She’s always been there though. As long as we’ve been alive, almost.’ He hesitated. ‘I really don’t think she’s evil. Just small and weak. I don’t want to hurt her.’ 

‘It’s like you’ve got a daemon of your own.’ Harry closed his eyes and cuddled closer. ‘I suppose I’ve got to love and protect you both.’

Rowan purred. ‘You’ve only got to love me,’ he told Harry. ‘It’s still just you and me against the world. You me, and one ... passenger.’ 

Harry smiled weakly. ‘Sure.’ 

He could live with it, like a tumour. Benign and unassuming. He couldn’t feel it there, inside him, but he would still have rather had it removed. No matter what Rowan said. 


	2. Chapter 2

The screams were still echoing faintly in the back of Harry’s head when he came to on the floor of the carriage. The Hogwarts Express seemed to be moving again now, for there was a gentle rumbling beneath him. Hermione was kneeling at his side, looking very pale and concerned. Ron and Neville, even more so. 

‘Wha - what happened?’

‘You, er, fainted, I think,’ Ron said. ‘When that thing came in. It came straight for you.’ 

That wasn’t all though. Harry could tell from his face. 

‘What else? Who screamed?’

Ron looked confused. ‘No one screamed. You just fell off your seat and started twitching on the floor. I thought you were having a fit or something and ... your daemon ...’

‘What about my daemon?’

He glanced down at his chest where Rowan was lying. The great lion opened his eyes slowly to meet his gaze. There didn’t appear to be anything wrong with him. 

‘He changed, Harry,’ Hermione said gently. ‘I’ve never heard of that happening after a daemon’s settled. I thought it was impossible.’

‘What did he become?’ Harry asked, knowing the answer. 

‘A big black snake,’ Ron said. ‘Pretty bloody terrifying, if you ask me, but maybe that was the point. He was hissing and spitting at the hooded thing like he was trying to scare it off, and wrapping itself around you, so it couldn’t touch you.’

‘It was trying to touch me?!’

‘Looked like it. It stretched out a hand - if you could call _that thing_ a hand,’ Ron shivered. ‘I thought it was about to yank you out of your seat.’

Professor Lupin bent down to their level. ‘I’m afraid,’ he said softly, ‘that it was not reaching for you, but your daemon.’

He produced - of all things - a large bar of chocolate from his coat, snapped off a big piece and handed it to Harry. 

‘Here, eat this. It will help.’

Harry took the piece of chocolate, but did not eat it. ‘What do you mean?’ He asked Lupin. ‘You’re not saying it was trying to take my daemon?’ 

‘That is precisely what I am saying,’ Professor Lupin said gravely. ‘The Dementors of Azkaban keep their prisoners in line by draining the life from their daemons. They need only to touch a daemon to render it weak and helpless and its human likewise. Sometimes they will pick up an daemon and stoke it like a cat and when they put it down the daemon is so pale you can see right through it.’ 

The carriage had become almost as cold and quiet as when the dementor had been there among them.

‘That’s awful,’ Hermione whispered. Hermes, her otter daemon, crawled into her lap.

‘Yes,’ Professor Lupin agreed. ‘It is.’ He snapped off another large square of chocolate and handed it to Hermione. ‘Eat,’ he urged. ‘It really does help.’

Harry forced himself to chew his chocolate, surprised when a feeling of warm relief spread though him. He was thinking about what had happened when Rowan transformed. If what his friends had told him was true, Morgana had tried to protect him. She had clung to him, when threatened, afraid of being taken away. 

So, he thought, Dumbledore was right. 

**

The headmaster greeted him warmly and produced tea and biscuits for two. 

‘I’ve been expecting you. I suppose you have come to discuss the recent match.’ He shook his head. ‘I must ask you to forgive me for not guarding you better against the dementors. I should’ve known they would try and attend.’

Harry tried to pick up his teacup, fingers numb and clumsy. 

‘Why did they have to come?’ He asked. ‘It’s not as if they’re fans, is it?’

‘No, indeed. I do not believe that dementors take pleasure in anything directly. They are the purest form of parasite, feeding entirely on human emotion. All that excitement in the crowd just proved too tempting.’

His tone was bitter. At Harry’s feet, Rowan stalked back and forth impatiently. 

‘Why do they affect us so badly?’ He burst out suddenly. ‘On the train, I thought it was because that dementor practically attacked us, but then, on the pitch, those dementors were miles away and we still fell off our broom. I still changed.’ 

His ears drooped. ‘Everyone saw,’ he whispered. ‘I became a snake and everyone saw.’ It was terrifying. 

Fawkes began to groom Rowan’s mane, instantly soothing Harry. 

‘Are you familiar with what they call “The Dementor’s Final Feast”?’

Harry shook his head. 

‘It is a form of execution,’ Dumbledore said. ‘The Ministry has just authorised the dementors to perform in on Sirius Black.’ He frowned deeply and twined his fingers together. ‘It is ... a terrible fate. Too terrible, in my opinion, for any man.’

‘Even Voldemort?’

‘Even him.’ A heavy sigh. ‘The Final Feast is when a dementor devours a daemon in its entirely, leaving its human alone in the world.’ 

Harry stared at him. ‘But - but a person can’t survive without their daemon. If a daemon is killed doesn’t its human die too?’ 

‘Ordinarily, yes. However, I believe that some part of the daemon continues to exist within the dementor. Not a thinking, feeling part. Merely the vital force. It becomes nothing more than fuel, keeping the dementor going. That is how they survive for century after century. Human emotion is not enough to sustain them indefinitely. Their true food is human souls.’ 

In the silence that followed this statement Dumbledore examined Harry closely, eyes dark bright his half-moon spectacles. 

‘So, Harry, do you now understand why the dementors are so attracted to you.’ 

Harry looked down at Rowan. ‘Yes,’ he breathed, ‘because ... I have Lord Voldemort’s daemon inside my own. I have two ... feasts?’ 

Dumbledore nodded. ‘Exactly so. When they approach you, your second daemon - Voldemort’s daemon, I should say - is pulled out by force. As that happens, I expect some of Lord Voldemort’s memories rise to the surface of your mind.’ 

Harry leant across the desk, heart pounding, and Rowan whined softly. 

‘Yes,’ Harry said eagerly. ‘I hear... horrible things.’ He went red, too embarrassed to say anything else. 

Rowan picked up where he left off. ‘We hear our mother screaming and begging Lord Voldemort to spare our lives.’ 

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. ‘That makes sense. That would have been Morgana’s last memory before she was torn from her master. In many ways, her life begins and ends in that moment.’ 

Harry bit his lip. ‘How do I stop it?’ 

‘Oh, I don’t think you can,’ said Dumbledore. ‘However, you can overcome the sensation. You can fight dementors. There is a charm to repel them.’ He saw the flicker in Harry’s eyes. ‘I can teach you, if you want.’ 

**

Harry chanted the words over and over, his voice growing hoarse. ‘Expecto Patronum, Expecto Patronum. Expecto Patronum ...’

Still the dementors advanced. Harry retreated as far as he could, backing up against Sirius’s body. Rowan was quivering, flashing between fur and scales every second. His whines grew loud and insistent, piercing the sky. 

‘Expecto Patronum. Expecto - ‘

The word ended in gasp. Rowan had finally transformed into the female snake Morgana and was slithering away. Harry fell down, winded as if someone had punched him. 

‘No - wait!’ He gasped. ‘Come back!’ 

The daemon was going too far. He could feel the bond between them strainin. It was too much. Far too much. 

‘Rowan!’ He squeaked. ‘Ro - Morgana!’ 

Neither creature heeded him. The daemon was fleeing and the dementors were closing in on him and Sirirus. The screams were echoing inside his head and his vision was failing. The last thing he saw was a dementor bending down low and picking up Sirius‘s daemon by the scruff of her neck. 

‘No, no, no - ‘

**

Harry woke in the hospital wing. Alone. His hands scrabbled under the bedclothes, searching for his daemon. He fingers slid across cotton sheets meeting no fur, no scales. 

‘Rowan,’ he croaked. ‘Rowan, Rowan, Rowan.’ 

‘Lie still,’ said a firm voice. Madame Pomfrey‘s plump, frowning face appeared. ‘Your daemon is still out somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. The headmaster has gone to find him.’ 

‘No,’ said Harry, confused. ‘No, that’s wrong. Can’t be - too far -‘ 

‘Shhh, calm down.’ She pressed on hand to his chest. ‘Sometimes a daemon can travel far away from their human, stretching the bond between them without breaking it.’ 

‘So I’m not - we’re not - ‘ he didn’t know how to finish the sentence. ‘I can’t lose him!’

Madame Pomfrey made a soothing sound. At the window her stork daemon let out a sudden honk.

‘He’s back!’

Another bird appeared at the window. A small, red and gold bird with trailing tail feathers. Fawkes the phoenix flew into the hospital wing, landing smoothly at the foot of Harry’s bed. 

‘Albus has got him,’ he told Harry, wasting no time. ‘He’s coming now.’ 

Harry’s brain was still foggy. ‘My ... Rowan?’ He said. ‘He’s - he’s bringing him up here?’ 

Fawkes bowed his head. ‘Yes, Harry. Do not worry. He is safe.’ 

‘How far is he?’ Harry asked. 

‘Not far,’ said Fawkes. ‘Just walking back to the castle.’ 

Madame Pomfrey moved aside, drawing the curtain around them, although there didn’t appear to be anyone else in the wing. 

‘We were separated too, once,’ said Fawkes. ‘That is how I am able to go so far from him. Witches and Wizards with bird daemons are often inclined to test the limits of their bonds. We are adventurous, by nature. We want to push boundaries.’ 

‘And - and you’re okay? You’re still - ?’

‘We’re just as connected as we’ve ever been.’

It was only a short while until Dumbledore entered the room. Rowan was there, nestled in his arms. A long, black coil.

Harry knew it was Rowan, even though he was still in the body of the female snake. He could see him inside in the glowing eyes. This was his daemon, not Morgana. He opened his arms and the snake tumbled into them. Dumbledore lowered him carefully, making sure not to touch the daemon with his bare hands, until the tip of his tail was flicking though the air.

Once again, Harry’s touch magically transformed Rowan back to his usual self and the lion whimpered and licked at his face. 

‘Thank you,’ said Harry. 

‘He did the right thing by running away,’ replied Dumbledore. ‘I know it hurt, but he had to protect himself. The dementors were not hungry enough to give chase. Not when they already had a captive at their feet.’ 

‘Sirius! Professor, did they - ? Is he?’

‘He is dead,’ Dumbledore said. ‘From shock. Many victims do not survive The Final Feast. Not for long, anyway.’

‘But he was innocent!’ Harry cried. 

‘So I understand. Your friends explained the situation to me, as best they could. However, in the absence of any witnesses we cannot clear his name.’

‘I tried to protect him, tried to fight them off, but there were just too many of them.’

‘Do not blame yourself,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Few fully-grown wizards have been able to master the Patronus charm. You held your own as best you could. You are still here, that is enough. You are alive. You are whole ... and I am infinitely grateful for that.’


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been so unmotivated lately I haven’t even felt like working on what I think of as my side stories or ‘procrastination’ fics. I’ve had these bits sitting in my notebook for a while and haven’t even had the energy to go over them and post them. 😩

He swept his hands across the mattress, finding nothing. No brush of fur, no wet twitching nose. He was alone. Rowan had run off again while he was sleeping. It was becoming a habit.

Every night, since the start of term, his daemon had left his bed to explore the school, filling Harry’s dreams with images of moon-lit corridors and empty classrooms. 

He screwed his face up in concentration, a vague buzzing in his ears. Was Rowan talking to someone? Was that even possible? He swung his legs out of bed, bare feet kissing the cold boards. In the next bed over, Ron let out a loud snore.

_Rowan_ , Harry called with his heart. _Rowan! Where are you?!_ There was no answer.

He groped his way along their invisible bond, like a mountain climber scaling a rope. Down the stairs, through the Gryffindor common room, and out the portrait hole. The humming was growing louder now and he had a better sense of the conversation. Something about ... Secret Passageways? Hidden societies? The great mysteries of Hogwarts. 

_Rowan_! He thought again. _Rowan! Answer me!_

He turned a corner and then there was his daemon, the other half of his soul, sat atop a ledge, beside a red and gold Phoenix. 

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. 

There was a low sigh behind him and he jumped to find the headmaster standing there, also gazing at the window.

‘I take it you are also here in search of your errant daemon?’ His said, eyes twinkling. ‘Do not worry, I am not about to punish you for being out of bed. Either of you.’ He sighed again. ‘This is the trouble with having a daemon who can travel far away from you. They develop a wandering spirit and often leave you behind.’ 

He stepped forward and whistled. Fawkes turned and flew over to them. Dumbledore caught him on his arm, like a trained hawk, and caressed his scarlet head. 

‘You’ve been very naughty,’ he reproved.

Fawkes bowed his head. 

‘Forgive me, Harry. We have disturbed your sleep long enough. Please, return to your dormitory.’ 

Rowan crept over to him, tail between his legs and they retreated together. 

They didn’t speak again until they were both safe in bed with a silencing charm around them. Only then did Harry demand an explanation. 

‘We were just talking,’ said Rowan. ‘He’s been telling me stories about the castle and all the adventures students have had over the years. He knows everything, Harry. Absolutely everything.’ 

‘How did it even happen?’ Harry asked. ‘How could you arrange to meet behind our backs?’ They were never apart during the day. 

‘We just came across each other one night. It was all by chance and then ... we agreed to meet each night. We were having so much fun.’ 

‘Well, you can’t do it anymore,’ said Harry. ‘Dumbledore won’t let you.’ 

‘He can’t stop us,’ Rowan said defiantly. ‘He can’t control Fawkes, any more than you can control me.’ 

‘Dumbledore might not be able to punish Fawkes, but he can punish us,’ Harry said meaningfully. ‘He is the headmaster.’

‘He won’t,’ said Rowan. His body quivered with excitement. ‘We’re not like the other students.’ 

There was a pause and Harry sensed that Rowan was about to divulge something big. It was weighing down on Harry’s mind, as much as he tried to push it away. It would crash through any moment, as devastating as a bomb.

‘I love him.’ 

Harry closed his eyes. ‘YOU CAN’T.’

‘I do!’

‘Well, he doesn’t love you,’ Harry said. ‘You’re just a child to him.’ 

‘He does love me!’ Rowan retorted. ‘He told me so. He says I’m special. Kind and honest and loyal and brave. The sort of person that doesn’t come along very often. He says that’s why he loves me.’ 

Harry caught his breath. ‘He doesn’t mean like that. He just means like a son, or a grandson or just a favourite student. Because that’s all we are to him. We’re students and he’s a teacher. He could never see us like that.’

‘Maybe not now,’ Rowan said stubbornly, ‘but later. When we’re all grown up. When we’ve left school. He could love us then.’

‘We’d still be too young for him,’ Harry replied angrily. ‘He’s really old. Over a hundred.’

‘Fawkes isn’t. He’s a Phoenix. He’s young and beautiful.’ 

‘Well, Dumbledore’s ancient!’ Said Harry. ‘And I don’t want to be him! An ugly old man.’ 

‘Oh, Don’t say that!’ Rowan protested. ‘You don’t mean it!’

‘Yes I do!’ Harry said. ‘I’m sorry but I don’t care how much you like Fawkes. I don’t fancy Dumbledore and he doesn’t fancy me so it’s never going to happen and you just need to get that through your head!’

Rowan grumbled, ‘You’re being so difficult! Can’t you imagine being with him? He’s so kind and gentle.’

‘NO!’

Rowan growled angrily. ‘Well, who else are we going to be with then?! You remember what Dumbledore said. There’s barely any gay wizards in the world.’ 

‘We’ll date a muggle,’ Harry said in a quiet voice. ‘He said we should.’

‘Do you really think we’re going to find some handsome muggle bloke who understands us? It’ll be hard enough explaining magic to him and even if that doesn’t scare him off what’s the chances that we’ll have anything in common?’

‘Don’t! We’ve got to try. We can’t just give up.’ 

‘I’m not saying we give up,’ Rowan said. ‘I’m saying we should be with Dumbledore. He’s your soulmate, Harry. I just know he is, because Fawkes is mine. We fit together perfectly.’

‘A bird and a lion?’ Harry mocked. ‘Oh yes, a prefect match. Come off it, Rowan. There’s no such thing as soulmates.’ 

‘I think there is,’ Rowan insisted, ‘and even if there isn’t, I want to be with Fawkes. He’s the one I’d choose out of everyone in the world. We’ll never find anyone better.’

‘IT’S. NOT. GOING. TO. HAPPEN.’ Harry said, through gritted teeth. ‘Now, shut up about it. I want to get to sleep.’ 

**

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows when he saw Harry at his door a few nights later. Alone, without his daemon.

‘Gone again?’ He asked mildly. ‘I’m afraid he is not here, although you are welcome to come in.’ 

Harry stepped into the office, shivering. He was dressed only in pyjamas with his invisibility cloak thrown over one shoulder, making him half a man. 

‘I just woke up and he was gone,’ Harry said. ‘He must have slipped away as soon as I fell asleep. I tried to find him but he’d gone to far. He didn’t want me to follow him.’ 

Dumbledore nodded understandingly. ‘I am sure he did not mean to abandon you. He only wishes to be free.’ 

He waved his wand and two cups of tea appeared on the desk, hot and inviting, with pretty plumes of steam.

‘It is a difficult age you’re at, Harry. Part of you longs to go out into the world and claim your independence, while the other part still clings to the comfortable and familiar. Your misfortune is that your adventurous side is literally able to walk off without you. It is disconcerting, I know, but in time your instincts will align once more.’ 

Harry sat down heavily in his chair, still shivering, although the room was quite warm. Dumbledore smiled and took the other chair.

‘I went through much the same thing when I was young. Fawkes has a very wild spirit and would not wait for me to catch up with him. It is only natural for daemons to test boundaries, especially when they are let off the leash, as it were.’ 

He inclined his head. ‘You do not do it to hurt us, do you?’

‘Not at all,’ Fawkes replied lightly. 

Harry was startled. ‘I - I didn’t think he was here.’ He said, gazing over at the Phoenix. ‘I thought they must be - ‘

‘Together?’ Dumbledore finished his sentance. ‘No, not this time. I have asked Fawkes to refrain from leading your daemon astray. You need your sleep right now and cannot have Rowan waking you each night.’ 

Harry slumped over. Knowing that Rowan was out there by himself was somehow far worse. 

‘I don’t understand why he does this,’ he said. ‘I mean, if he’s going out to meet Fawkes then that’s one thing.’

He blushed, hoping that Dumbledore did not know the depth of his daemon’s infatuation, though it seemed quite likely he did. 

‘I can’t say exactly what it is that prompts our daemons to stray,’ said Dumbledore thoughtfully. ‘Fawkes, my darling, perhaps could you elaborate?’

Fawkes stretched out his wings and flapped at the air. ‘I shall try,’ he said, ‘though it is difficult to put into words.’ He thought for a moment. ‘When I was young I never could have dreamt of leaving Albus’s side. I wanted to be as close as possible. I never even pulled at the bond between us. I would curl up in his pocket father than risk the pain.’ 

‘Then once I settled, I started to dream about flying away, further than the bond would allow. Faster than Albus on a broom and in whatever direction I pleased. I never told Albus how I felt and yet somehow he understood. He said, “No bird should be kept in a cage,” and we performed the ritual to loosen the bond between us.’ 

‘I did not think that Albus would be hurt by my leaving him. He knew that I loved him and would come back eventually. We had been together forever, so why should he begrudge me this small freedom now? I flew away for a long time and did not return until I had seen many wonderful things and learned many secrets of the world. Then I was eager to tell Albus all about it. I thought that was my purpose, as his daemon. To see and do all that he could not.’ 

He cocked his head at Harry, eyes bright with interest. 

‘Doesn’t Rowan tell you where he’s been and what he’s done?’ 

Harry twisted in his seat. ‘Sometimes,’ he mumbled. ‘Not always.’ 

‘Perhaps he thinks you’ll be upset if you know he’s been having fun without you,’ Fawkes suggested. 

‘Has he said that?’ 

‘Not in so many words. I can tell he feels guilty though. It’s only natural.’

‘I can understand him wanting an escape,’ Dumbledore said softly. ‘Especially at this time. He must be very confused about who and what he truly is, and very afraid, too. Just as you are.’ 

Harry said nothing. 

‘Are you still having dreams about Lord Voldemort?’ 

‘Sometimes,’ Harry whispered. ‘There was a couple of times at Privet Drive where I dreamt about him and when I woke up Rowan had ... changed again.’ 

‘Did he turn back after you touched him?’ 

‘Yeah, but it was still pretty scary.’ Harry swallowed. ‘After that, Rowan started to go out a lot. Not far, just into the street and the field behind our house. I always knew where he was and I didn’t mind. It helped me sleep, sometimes, if he could get out and exercise. I slept better.’ 

Dumbledore was nodding. ‘I think you ought to have a few more occlumency lessons. You ought to be able to protect yourself, even when you’re asleep.’ 

Harry groaned. ‘I knew you’d say that. It’ll just make things worse. I’m always weaker after I practice with Snape. He doesn’t try and help me. He just wants to make me suffer.’ He scowled defiantly. ‘He _hates_ me.’

Dumbledore did not deny it. 

’Well,’ he began thoughtfully. ‘I could teach you instead. If you prefer? I am not nearly so good an occulmist as Professor Snape, but I daresay I may be a ... better teacher, in this case.’ 

‘Would you?’ Harry said. ‘I would much rather you than Snape.’

‘Yes, I thought so.’ 


	4. Chapter 4

It was a cold, dark place populated by sparse, brittle trees. In the distance Harry could just make out the glimmer of a lake, white in the moonlight. 

He struggled against his bonds, but the ropes were tight about his arms and his captor’s grip was firm on his shoulder. 

‘Go on,’ he said, with an impatient shove. ‘We’re almost there.’ 

Rowan whined and looked back at Harry, which only earned him another yank on the choking chain, leaving them both sore and breathless. 

‘You sure this is the place?’ Asked the man holding the leash. 

‘Yes,’ replied the man at Harry’s back. ‘Do you doubt me, Yaxley? The Dark Lord himself told me to bring him here.’ 

His voice was calm and smooth and strangely melodious. He sounded young and familiar, although Harry knew none of the Death Eaters by voice. 

‘Here!’ He exclaimed suddenly, breathless with excitement. ‘He’s coming!’ 

A dark figure was gliding through the trees, its black robes trailing just above the surface of the lake. Smooth and silent as a Dementor. 

Harry’s blood ran cold at the sight of Lord Voldemort gliding towards him, his face whiter than the moon and shining with glee. 

Finally he came to a stop before them, bare feet dipping down to rest upon the ground, and his face split open into a smile, the inside of his mouth scarlet.

‘Harry Potter. We meet again.’

One white hand, boney as a skeleton’s swept out to caress his face. Harry pulled away sharply, backing as far as the ropes would allow. 

His captor gave him a hard slap across the face.

‘Do not defy the Dark Lord!’ He cried shrilly. ‘How dare you reject his touch?’ 

Lord Voldemort was laughing though, as one might at a shy child refusing a kiss. 

‘The boy has every right to fear me, though I have no intention of harming him tonight. ‘Oh no!’ 

He laughed again, presumably at the shocked expressions on his follower’s faces. 

‘I have not brought him here to kill him. Indeed, I no longer wish the boy dead at all. He should be kept alive for as long as possible.’ 

The man with the leash swallowed. ‘Then, My Lord, forgive me. What would you have us do with him.’ 

A sweep of that white hand through the wintery air. 

‘All in good time, Yaxley! We are here for a great ceremony and all the niceties must be observed.’ 

He took a step closer and Harry cowered, thinking he meant to touch him again, but instead Voldemort reached over to his captor. 

‘My most faithful one,’ Voldemort breathed. ‘You have done me a great service this night. Now lend me your arm so that I may call the others.’

The man rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm proudly. As Harry watched, Lord Voldemort pressed the tip of his wand to the snake and skull tattoo and it burned bright in the night.

There was a rustling in the trees and a great howling of wind as slowly, hooded figures began to apparate into the clearing. They arranged themselves in neat lines as if this was a party they’d all prepared for.

Lord Voldemort strode up and down the lines, inspecting each face, playing his part. He began to speak importantly, reminding them all of his long history with Harry Potter. 

‘This much you all know,’ he said reaching the end of the tale, ‘but, there is one thing you do not know. On the night I attempted to kill Harry Potter and my curse rebounded upon me, my injured soul took sanctuary within him. There,’ 

He pointed one long finger at Rowan. 

‘In that ... ugly creature, resides my own daemon, kept safe for all these years. She is the one who has kept me tethered to this world even when my own body failed me.’ 

A soft murmuring amongst the ranks. 

‘Does this surprise you?’ Voldemort enquired, voice shrill. ‘I, who have gone further than any other man down the path toward immortality? I admit, it was not my intention to use Potter as a ... vessel. Nether the less, he has served his purpose well. There is some irony in the fact that Albus Dumbledore himself has been protecting my soul and guarding me against death!’ 

He let out a trill of laughter and the others followed suit. 

‘However, I grow weary of being tethered to such a weak and feeble little boy. It is not safe to leave my own daemon in the care of such a pathetic creature. And so, tonight, I mean to reclaim her.’ 

The clearing went silent once more and Voldemort approached Rowan, his long white hand descending on the lion’s snout. Rowan was trembling and snarling, as was Harry, but as soon as the man’s fingers touched him all the fight faded away. Fur melted into scales and the great snake Morgana slumped onto the ground. 

‘There you are!’ Voldemort breathed, grabbing the daemon by its throat, ‘My precious one. You are home now. Do not fight, Morgana. You are safe.’ 

The snake writhed unhappily and tried to opened her mouth, but Voldemort squashed her head shut with his bony fingers. Not at all gentle. 

‘Stop it!’ Harry cried. ‘He - she’s mine.’ 

Voldemort stared at him and then let out a laugh. ‘No, Potter. This creature is mine and I mean to take her back.’ 

‘You don’t even love her!’ Harry blurted out. ‘You - you’re hurting her!’ 

He could feel it, even though Morgana wasn’t his. Rowan was still in there and all three of them could feel the crush of Lord Voldemort’s hands. 

‘Love!’ Voldemort repeated mockingly. ‘As if Love has anything to do with it! What nonsense has that fool Dumbledore been feeding you? A daemon is nothing more than an anchor. A weight about your ankles.’ 

He shook the snake roughly. 

‘Now let me demonstrate.’ His smile widened, red as a wound, and he began to walk backwards towards the lake. ‘You should thank me for this,’ he called to Harry. ‘I’m giving you a gift few witches and wizards are brave enough to accept. I am breaking your chains and freeing you from that natural weight. You shall be far lighter after this.’ 

Harry didn’t understand. Fear consumed him as Voldemort began to slip beneath the surface of the lake, further and further from Harry. Did he mean to drown his daemon? 

‘Stop!’ Harry whimpered. ‘Come back!’ 

But the writhing snake had already been plunged into the cold, cold water and a moment later Voldemort’s face disappeared below too. The ripples faded away leaving the lake as smooth and black as marble. 

Then, with a sudden crack, the water froze solid. 

Harry screamed as the ice cut through the bond between him and Rowan, severing them forever. 

The scream died away after a moment, leaving only a hoarse gurgle, as the ice thawed and Lord Voldemort rose up from the water. The snake was limp in his arms, so still that it might have been dead, its eyes closed in despair. 

‘Rowan!’ Harry gasped, tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘Rowan!’ 

He was on his knees now, arms still bound, and shaking all over. Voldemort looked down at him coldly, one hand caressing the severed daemon, and said nothing. 

‘Rowan! Please!’ 

A man in the crowd jerked reflexively, one arm reaching out towards Harry - as if help him up - before withdrawing hastily. Voldemort turned his cold eyes towards him and his lips twisted. 

‘Why Lucius, don’t tell me you pity the boy?’ 

The hooded figure bowed his head, caught out. 

‘He is just a child,’ Lucius Malfoy said quietly. ‘What would you have us do with him?’

‘You wish to care for him? Miserable wretch that he is? Well, by all means, Lucius. You may take him as a prisoner. Lock him away somewhere safe where no one may interfere with him. I do not wish him to be killed, but you may ... restrain or discipline him, as needs be.’ 

Lucius nodded his head and knelt on the ground before Harry. One arm slid about Harry’s trembling back and the other gripped his wrists. 

Just as Harry realised what was happening he let out a strangled, ‘No!’ But it was too late. With a crack Lucius Malfoy aparated away with Harry Potter in his arms. 

**

Narcissa Malfoy’s eyes went wide when she saw the bound, sobbing boy in her husband’s arms.

‘What is this boy doing here?’ She hissed. ‘Where is his daemon?!’ 

‘The Dark Lord cut it from him,’ 

‘And you brought him here?!’ Her tone incredulous. ‘To our home? Lucius, what are you thinking?!’

‘The Dark Lord demanded it,’ Lucius explained. ‘He is to be our prisoner.’ 

His arms shook under Harry’s weight, although he was not a weak-built man.

‘Please, just help me with him.’ 

Harry saw marbled ceilings and huge, glittering chandeliers as he was carried into the house. He was deposited in front of a roaring fire, his bonds unravelling as soon as he touched the floor and slithering away like snakes in the grass. 

Harry started crying afresh, thinking of the serpent daemon. Silent, broken tears. ‘Rowan,’ he murmured over and over. ‘Rowan. Rowan. Rowan.’ A hopeless incantation.

‘He’s still in shock.’ Narcissa said softly. ‘Lucius, what exactly are you proposing we do with him?’ 

‘We must call Severus.’ 

‘Severus? You think we can trust him with this? We don’t know which master he truly serves.’ She approached the fire in a rustling of skirts. ‘You know what Bella believes. I am not sure, even now.’ 

‘We have no other choice.’ He rose and took his wife’s arm. ‘You know this is no honour.’ His voice was shaking. ‘The Dark Lord has given me this task as a punishment. I trembled when he ... tore the boy apart. I moved to help him.’ 

Narcissa moaned. ‘It is a test.’ 

‘A test we will fail.’ 

‘I could ... call Bella instead. She would help us.’ 

‘No!’ Lucius said sharply. ‘She would betray us in an instant. You know she would. You will not call her! I forbid it! 

Narcissa let out a breath. ‘So that is how it is?’ There was a silence as she searched her husband’s face. ‘Are you sure?’ 

‘It is not safe,’ Lucius whispered. ‘Think of Draco. We must do whatever we can. Now, before it is too late!’ 

Narcissa’s leant into her husband and their daemons embraced at their feet. Lucius’s fox daemon pressing her nose into the throat of Narcissa’s grey cat. Harry stared at them with an ache in his chest that was almost too painful to bear. 

_Rowan_. 

‘I will call him now,’ Narcissa said. ‘I will tell him it is urgent and he must come directly, telling no one.’ 

‘Good.’ 

She swished out of the room, leaving Lucius Malfoy and Harry Potter alone together. The man crouched down so that Harry could see his pale, pointed face, so like his son’s, and spoke softly to Harry. 

‘I know it hurts. There is nothing I can say to make it hurt less. Know only your daemon is alive and may one day be returned to you.’ 

His tone was doubtful. Desolate. For even if Rowan was returned to Harry, it would be like a reunion behind glass. They would never truly be together again, as they had been. Whole and connected. 

Lucius produced a cloak of thick, black fur and draped it across Harry’s shoulders. He sat not in one of the grand, high-backed chairs, but crouched on the floor beside Harry and caressed him like a son.

It was so strange. If only Harry had been in his right mind he would been shocked or amused by the misplaced affection. He had seen Lucius and Draco together many times and wondered what it would be like to have a father who was so affectionate. 

As it was, he was so numb he barely felt the man’s touch. He did not push him away, just sat still and let Lucius stroke his face. Lucius’s fox daemon watched closely, her belly to the floor, and Harry had to suppress the urge to reach out and touch her. Shocked that he could want something so wrong.

He couldn’t help it, though. He was desperate to feel the warmth of a daemon’s body, the comfort of its little paws digging into his chest. Instead, he clung to the fur cloak and sunk his fingers deep into it.

The door swung open and a pair of black boots strode into the room. Black boots beneath black robes; a solid pillar of onyx. The only colour provided by the light, dancing body of Snape’s doe daemon. As always, a striking contrast. As delicate as he was hard, as beautiful as he was ugly. 

‘Well, well,’ he declared coldly. ‘This is a pretty picture.’ 

Harry did not even have the sense to be embarrassed. Lucius did not pull away either. 

‘The Dark Lord has taken his daemon,’ Lucius said, without preamble. ‘He does not intend to give it back.’

‘So I see.’ 

‘This does not surprise you?’ 

Snape snorted. ‘I am aware that the Dark Lord’s daemon now resides inside Potter’s own. It was only a matter of time before he attempted to separate the two. He cannot countenance another wizard laying claim to what is his.’

‘It‘s his daemon,’ Lucius hissed, squeezing at Harry.

‘Obviously,’ Snape said wearily. ‘The two are bound together.’ 

He drew closer, boots tapping on floorboards. Shyly, his doe moved with him, skittering away from Harry when she got too close. Her large, dark eyes fixed on him. 

‘I can see how his plight has upset you. Brought back memories, I expect? You have only just had Calliope returned to you.’ He bent down low, bringing the hooked tip of his nose into Harry’s line of sight. ‘I hope you did nothing to offend the Dark Lord. Otherwise, he will divide you again.’ 

‘You know he plans to make Draco a Death-Eater,’ Lucius said. 

‘Indeed. It is a great honour. The boy is delighted, is he not?’ 

‘Because he does not know what it means!’ Lucius spat. ‘When I saw him tonight ... dragging that creature beneath the Lake. Again, after all these years. That ... horrible ritual.’ Harry heard the man’s teeth scraping in his skull as he grit them together. ‘I swore, Severus. In that moment. He will NEVER do that to MY SON.’ 

Snape let out a deep breath. ‘I see. So, you intend to flee.’ 

Lucius did not deny it. 

‘I do not know who you are truly loyal to,’ he said, ‘The Dark Lord, or Dumbledore, so I can only appeal to you as a friend. Do not betray me to your master. I do not ask for your help, I know you cannot compromise your position, but I hope that ... perhaps, there is something you could do for Potter?’ 

Harry could picture the man’s familiar sneer without even lifting his head. What was Lucius even doing, asking Professor Snape for help? And what was all this about Draco? Why would Voldemort ever do to him what he had done to Harry? What would be the point?

His head was heavy and his thoughts moved like treacle. He couldn’t think about anything properly other than Rowan, and that was not truly a thought, only a feeling. A horrible, empty ache. 

‘ _Rowan_ ,’ he mouthed wordlessly. ‘ _Rowan, Rowan_.’ 

Black robes pooled at knees as Snape crouched down before him, eyes as black as pitch and lips a tight white line. 

‘You see how he is,’ Lucius whispered. ‘Severus, he is one of us now.’

Severus’s lips twisted in disgust. ‘No, Lucius,’ he said sharply. ‘Do not deceive yourself. He is nothing like us.’ 

He got up again, brushing at his robes, although there was no dust to be found on the floor of Malfoy Manor. 

‘I can take him to Dumbledore,’ he declared, ‘but no one can know what transpired here tonight. You will leave as soon as I am gone? We cannot know what the Dark Lord plans to do next.’ 

He held out a thin, white hand. 

‘Come, Potter. I will take you home.’ 

**

He could barely stand, his legs buckling as Snape began to drag him though Hogsmede. Words bubbled up against his will. The same stupid phrases over and over. He gabbled like an idiot.

‘I can’t leave Rowan. I need Rowan. He’s so far. Please. Need him. Rowan. Rowan.’ 

‘Hurry up, stupid boy!’ Snape hissed. ‘If only we could fly, but I wouldn’t dare put you on a broom. Not in this state.’ 

He put his hands beneath Harry’s arms and hoisted him up. Harry was so small and light that Snape managed to lift him easily and carried him most of the way. Harry clung to him like a baby, head lolling on his shoulder.

Dumbledore was waiting for them. He let out a little cry when he saw Harry, a heart-felt wail of despair, and reached out to take him into his own arms. 

‘Oh, Harry! Harry! Harry!’ 

Harry pressed his face into the old man’s neck and mouthed at the skin, his nose filling with the sweet scent of pine needles and parchment. 

‘He took him,’ he whimpered. ‘He took my Rowan. Please, help me. I need my Rowan. Have to get him back.’ 

Dumbledore stroked at his hair. 

‘My poor, poor boy. We’ll find him. We’ll bring him home.’ 

‘Where are you going to take him?’ Snape demanded, angry and impatient. ‘He can’t go back to the dormitory, or the hospital wing. No one must see him like this. You know what will happen if it gets out.’ 

‘I’ll take him up to my room,’ Dumbledore replied. ‘I can watch over him while he sleeps. It’s best if we don’t leave him alone.’ 

Snape let out a mirthless laugh. ‘He’s always alone now. He always will be. You know, that Albus. You know that!’ His tone grew angrier and angrier. ‘How could you let this happen?! You were supposed to be protecting him.’ 

Dumbledore’s shoulders shuddered. 

‘I failed.’ 

He carried Harry up to a round tower bedroom and tucked him up in a huge four-poster bed. 

‘I’ll give you something to make you sleep,’ he whispered. ‘It’s best if you sleep for as long as possible, while we work and do what must be done. It will keep the pain at bay.’ 

Harry accepted the spoonful of sleeping draught and surrendered to oblivion. His last thoughts of his beloved Rowan, so soft and golden and true. 


	5. Chapter 5

There was fur beneath his fingers; Soft and thick and warm. 

_Rowan!_

Harry opened his eyes and looked for his own dear daemon, but found only a black fur travelling cloak. An empty skin. Lucius Malfoy’s cloak. Harry threw it to the floor.

‘Oh dear,’ sighed a voice. ‘I daresay Mr Malfoy thought that would bring you some comfort, but what comfort is a tatty old bearskin when you’ve lost your very soul?’

Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the shadows. Fawkes the Phoenix following after, gliding down from the ceiling and alighting on the bed. 

‘Fawkes,’ Harry whispered. ‘Can you help me? Please. I need to find Rowan. I don’t know where he is.’ 

‘We will get him back,’ Dumbledore said. ‘I have the entire Order working on it. When we are ready we will go and rescue your daemon.’ 

Harry shuddered, cold despite all the blankets. It seemed that no cotton comforter or duck-down duvet could warm him like his lion. He yearned for heavy paws, a snuffling nose and a mane thick enough to grab on to. 

‘He’s gone,’ he groaned. ‘He’s ... gone.’ His empty hands tapped at his chest. ‘You can’t put him back in here?’

Dumbledore shook his head slowly, extinguishing the last spark of hope. 

‘Then ... I want to die,’ Harry croaked. ‘I can’t live like this. It isn’t right.’ 

‘You must stay alive if you wish to hold him again. If you die, there is no chance of a reunion.’ 

Harry closed his eyes. 

‘It hurts!’ 

Large, cool hands were on him, stroking his forehead. 

‘I know,’ Dumbledore said softly. ‘The pain must be unbearable. Just imagine Rowan, safe and sound, waiting for you to claim him. He is not dead. He is out there, somewhere, thinking about you.’ 

‘I miss him so much. I’m so cold, Professor. I need his body here. I need his fur and whiskers.’ 

A heartbroken cry. Surprisingly, it didn’t come from Harry or even Dumbledore, but from Fawkes the Phoenix. The bright bird had jumped onto the bed and before Harry could react, was nuzzling into his hands. 

He let out a gasp of surprise, and knew he ought to object, to push the other daemon away, and yet he couldn’t. He was so desperate for comfort. He closed his hands about the bird’s small body and buried his fingers in its feathers. 

It was the worst thing a person could do and yet it didn’t feel wrong. Glancing up at Dumbledore’s face he saw a flicker of unease, but no pain. He wasn’t suffering the way Harry had suffered when Voldemort had touched Rowan. 

Fawkes let out another cry, this time low and smooth; an avian interpretation of a purr. Then a miracle occurred. Scarlet feathers melted away into snow-white fur and yellow claws transformed into heavy paws. For the second time in his life, Harry saw the impossible occur. A settled daemon transforming again, this time from phoenix into lion. 

Harry stared at the daemon. It was not Rowan. His mane was longer and his fur the same shining white of Dumbledore’s beard. Still, just having a big cat sprawled out in his lap, made his heart do a summersault.

‘Fawkes,’ he breathed, daring to reach out and stroke the lion’s back. ‘You - you’ve changed.’ He looked up at Dumbledore. ‘How?’

The headmaster was frowning.

‘This is deep, old magic,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve only ever read about it.’ 

He too put a hand on Fawkes’s back and somehow this felt like permission. As if Dumbledore was saying, “ _This is fine. Both of us can touch._ ” 

‘I told you once that daemons change not only to reflect our true natures, but to answer our deepest desires. I believe Fawkes has transformed in order to be what you need right now. Because he wants to help you. Because we both want to help you.’ 

Harry stared up into the old man’s blue eyes, astounded, and then looked back down at the white lion. 

‘I do need this,’ He confessed. ‘I need his fur, his warmth. I need to touch.’ 

There was an apology hiding beneath his words. He was ashamed to break the taboo, although Dumbledore and didn’t seem to mind. 

He ran his hand down Fawkes’s back, through his long, lustrous fur, and the daemon purred, just the way Rowan used to. 

‘I will keep you warm,’ he said, rising up on his haunches and licking Harry’s face. ‘I will stay with you until Rowan comes back. I won’t leave you alone.’

Harry’s eyes flicked back to Dumbledore and found the daemon’s expression mirrored on the old man’s face. 

‘Don’t be afraid. I want Fawkes to stay with you.’ 

Harry’s eyes filled with tears. 

‘Thank you.’ 

**

Snape arrived an hour later bearing a steaming goblet on a gold tray. He almost dropped it when he saw the great white lion lying on the bed. 

‘What? Is that - ?!’

‘No, Severus,’ Dumbledore said calmly, rising from his chair. ‘It’s Fawkes.‘

‘But he’s - how can he be - ?!’ 

‘Apparently he wanted to keep Harry company in the form he’s most accustomed to.’ 

‘It’s not possible!’ 

‘It is,’ Dumbledore assured him, ‘although very unusual.’

Harry had never seen the potions master so shaken before. He kept glancing back and forth between them, black eyes shimmering.

‘I see you’ve brought another dose of the potion,’ Dumbledore observed. ‘Perhaps you could give it to Harry and watch over him until he falls asleep. I need to head out again.’

‘And the daemon?’ 

‘Fawkes will stay with Harry.’ 

Snape’s grip on the tray tightened. 

‘Very well.’ 

He waited until the headmaster was gone before pulling up a chair to Harry’s bedside.

‘Drink your potion,’ he commanded.

He was determinedly looking anywhere but at the borrowed daemon. Harry felt deeply embaressed, as if Snape had walked in on him touching himself. 

‘It’s not what you think,’ he said. ‘The headmaster said I could have him.‘

‘How very generous of him,’ Snape said, rolling the word “generous” around and around his tongue, coating it in bile.   
  
‘I know it’s ... wrong,’ Harry whispered weakly. ‘I just feel so empty.’ 

He clung to Fawkes, unable to let go even as shame coursed through him. 

‘You needn’t explain,’ said Snape with a grimace. ‘I know precisely what you’re feeling. I went through it myself, many years ago, when The Dark Lord took my daemon. Although no one was kind enough to offer me a replacement.’ 

At his side, the graceful doe bowed her head, dark eyes filled with sorrow.

‘What? He took your daemon?’ 

‘He does it to all his closest followers,’ Snape said dully. ‘Just part of the initiation when you become a Death-Eater.’ 

He moved one hand to the doe’s head and stroked gently.

‘Weren’t you listening at Malfoy Manor? But no, I suppose you weren’t in any condition. That is why Lucius betrayed The Dark Lord. He didn’t want his son to go through what we did.’ 

Harry gaped at Snape. 

‘But, why?’ Why would he do ... _that_ ... to his followers?!’ 

Snape smiled at the question. It was not a nice smile. Tight-lipped and twisted. 

‘Can’t you guess? The Dark Lord wants complete power over his followers. Take away a man’s daemon and he is utterly dependant on you. He’ll do anything to get it back.’ 

The doe quivered slightly, eyelashes fluttering. 

‘He still takes away our daemons sometimes when he wishes to punish us. He did that to Lucius recently, so the pain was still quite fresh.’ 

‘But then, you’re all - ‘ Harry searched for a suitable word.

‘Severed,’ Snape supplied. ‘Half-beings. Broken. That’s how he wants us, Potter. We come to him, young and eager, and offer up our very souls, then he tears us open and hollows us out and makes us his puppets.’ 

Harry felt sick. 

‘You knew what he was going to do to you and your daemon, and you _let_ him?’

His eyes went to the beautiful doe; so sweet and gentle and harmless. 

‘It was the ultimate act of devotion,’ Snape said. ‘I wanted to surrender myself entirely. I - as a child - ‘ he looked embaressed. ‘I always felt so worthless. So weak. The Dark Lord made me feel as if I had value. He said I would be purer. Stronger.’ 

An expression flitted across The Potions Master’s face that Harry had never seen before. 

‘I was ... a fool. We all were. Just boys. Children desperate to be loved. Or the closest thing to to it, because none of us felt worthy of love. None of us.’ He began to wring his hands. ‘I didn’t want to,’ he whispered. ‘I was afraid. We all were, but I believed in the Dark Lord. I did what he told me to. I - I handed him my daemon. I watched him drag her beneath the lake.’ 

Horror flooded Harry. 

‘We all fought when it came to it,’ Snape continued. ‘No man can surrender his daemon willingly. I tried to stand still and not to scream or cry as he dragged Diana away. She was screaming though. She was crying. Fighting the whole time, trying to get back to me.’

He covered his face and turned away.

‘After it happened, I realised how wrong I’d been. I’d cut out the only good part of myself. The only pure, good, honest part. And nothing else mattered other than getting her back.’ 

The doe laid her head in his lap. Her expression as loving as a mother’s. Snape brought one shaking hand to her cheek.

‘I turned by back on The Dark Lord that day. I resolved to work against him and turned spy for Dumbledore. He was the only one who cared for me, in my time of need, though not quite as ... devotedly as he is caring for you.’ 

There was a heavy silence. 

‘At Mr Malfoy’s house,’ Harry began hesitantly, ‘Mr Malfoy said I was like you two, and you said I wasn’t.’ 

‘So you were listening.’ 

‘Why? Because - ?’ 

‘Because you didn’t choose it,’ Snape said softly. ‘You don’t carry the guilt of betraying your own daemon. You are blameless in this. You are innocent.’

Harry gazed down at Fawkes with a heavy heart. It didn’t make much difference. He still had lost his daemon. He had still failed him.

‘I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.’ 

The Potions Master clicked his tongue.

‘I have never had any cause to praise you in any other respect. Certainly, your performance in class has left much to be desired. In any case, it is a very low bar indeed not to stoop to the level of us death-eaters. We are a despicable, wretched lot. What could possibly be more evil that betraying one’s own daemon?’

‘Taking it,’ Harry breathed, although Snape wasn’t expecting an answer. ‘What Lord Voldemort has done ... How can anything be more evil? I thought I hated him before but now ... ‘ 

He sank his hands into Fawkes’s snow-white mane. 

‘I doubt you have the energy to really muster any hate,’ Snape said. ‘You will not be fit for anything until your daemon is returned to you.’ 

‘But then - ?’ Harry raised his head and looked between Snape and his daemon. ‘Will I - ?’

Snape understood.

‘It will never be as it was,’ he told Harry. ‘You will never feel what your daemon feels or know what he is thinking. You are cut off from that forever.’ 

Grief, like a tidal-wave, threatening to drown him. 

‘However with time you may learn to cultivate a new relationship. You will be able to talk to each other, to touch each other, you will be together, and that is enough.’

How could it be enough? Harry wondered. How could he bear being cut-off from Rowan forever? To be to him as he was to any other creature on this earth, when they were meant to be as one, sharing every thought and sensation?

‘I don’t want us to be separate,’ Harry whimpered. ‘I want us to be _US_!’ 

‘I know,’ Snape said, his voice surprisingly soft. ‘I know, Potter.‘

He nudged the tray closer. 

‘Drink your potion. Sleep.’ 

Harry did as he was told, taking the goblet in his hands and drinking deeply. It worked fast. By the time he returned the goblet to the tray his eyelids were beginning to drop.

He lay back on the pillow and Fawkes curled up on his chest. 

‘Poor boy,’ Harry heard a female voice murmur, just before he drifted off. ‘If only there was something more we could do.‘ 

‘There isn’t,’ Snape replied. ‘Not yet. We follow orders, Diana, and trust in the headmaster. He will take care of him.’ 

**

Harry woke to a dark room.

‘Rowan,’ he whispered, prodding at the lump on his chest, before he remembered. ‘Fawkes?’

‘Yes?’ Fawkes whispered back. ‘It’s me. I’m here. What is it? Do you need to go to the bathroom?’ 

‘‘No, I just woke up. Where’s Dumbledore? Is he here?’ 

‘In the chair,’ Fawkes whispered. ‘Sleeping. He’s been out all day.’ 

Squinting through the darkness, Harry made out the bulk of the headmaster huddled in the corner. 

‘He didn’t want to leave us,’ Fawkes explained. ‘We said we’d watch over you.’ 

He couldn’t be sleeping that deeply, Harry thought, if Fawkes was awake. Then again, he was probably exhausted. He’d been working with The Order. Probably doing really hard, dangerous things. 

‘Let’s keep quiet,’ Harry whispered, ‘so we don’t wake him.’ 

Fawkes agreed and for a while they lay in silence, not speaking at all, but touching each other. Harry stroked Fawkes all over and Fawkes licked delicately at Harry’s face. It felt different to how it had before. More furtive and forbidden.

‘Could you perhaps get under the covers?’ Harry asked. ‘Rowan and I would always cuddle like that.’ 

‘Alright,’ Fawkes agreed.

Harry pulled back the duvet and Fawkes crept beneath it.

‘Rowan always used to lie at my back. Yes, just like that. All stretched out and sometimes he’d drape a paw over me.’ 

Fawkes did so.

‘Thank you,’ Harry whispered. 

The experience was both intimately familiar and shockingly new. Harry was aware that he was lying with another man’s daemon and breaking the ultimate taboo, but every touch echoed one he had known with Rowan. 

‘I still can’t feel you enough,’ he whispered.

Fawkes breathed out, a warm puff of air at Harry’s neck. 

‘I’m sorry.’ 

‘Could I ... undress?’ 

He wanted to feel fur on his bare skin. No barriers beyond flesh and bone. To be as close to another man’s daemon as he was with his own. 

‘If you wish.’

Harry sat up, pulled off his pyjamas, then lay back down.

‘Could you ... kiss at me?’ He whispered, one hand quivering at the lion’s mane. ‘My face and neck and back.’ 

Fawkes‘s tongue lapped at Harry’s flesh. He closed his eyes and let his right hand drift downwards, to touch himself. He breathed deeply, tried to keep still. Playing dead, while his body woke up. 

The room was quiet except for his quiet pants and a gentle snuffling from Fawkes. The hulk of Dumbledore’s body was a piece of furniture in the corner of the room, as solid as a statue.

Then, all of a sudden, the headmaster reared up from his chair. Harry shrunk in on himself as the Professor strode across the room, cowering in terror. There was just enough light to catch Dumbledore’s eyes, alight with blue fire. 

‘I - I’m sorry,’ Harry whimpered. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’

Dumbledore yanked the bedclothes away and pulled him up by his shoulders, frighteningly strong, despite his age. Harry whimpered, one hand clamped over his erection, as the headmaster pulled him in. 

Then Harry realised Dumbledore wasn’t angry at all. It was something else. A primal hunger making his eyes blaze. His hands moved between Harry’s legs, spreading them apart and exposing his privates. He positioned himself between Harry’s thighs. 

Harry felt the hard lump beneath the old man’s robes and the smooth tips of his fingers gliding up and down his crack and understood. 

‘Oh!’ He exclaimed. ‘Oh! OH! Yes! Please! Yes! Yes!’

He wanted it. To have a man inside him. To be filled up completely. To feel whole. 

Dumbledore whispered a spell and then drew up his robes. Harry closed his eyes and buried his face in Dumbledore’s beard.

He felt the pressure as he was penetrated, but no pain. Fawkes purred and butted at him, as hot and hungry as his human. After a few minutes, Dumbledore lowered Harry back to the mattress and climbed on top of him. Fawkes lay on his side and rutted pleasantly against Harry’s hip.

Harry clutched at Dumbledore’s hair and back and thighs and lost himself in the sensation. He heard the rasping little gasp Dumbledore made as he came, and followed him with a shudder. He was all hot and sticky now, covered in sweat and worse.

Dumbledore leant down to kiss him, on the cheeks, forehead and mouth. 

‘Are you okay?’ He whispered, pushing his hair back. ‘Did I frighten you?’ 

‘No,’ Harry croaked. ‘Well, maybe a bit. At first. I thought you were angry with me.’ 

He reached for Rowan for their usual post-climax cuddle and then remembered. Fawkes’s snout was in his hand, but it wasn’t enough. 

‘Oh God!’ He cried. ‘I did it without him! My first time and he wasn’t here! He’ll never know how it felt!’

‘You can tell him all about it,’ said Dumbledore gently, ‘and we’ll make love again, all four of us, and he’ll know how it feels then.’ 

‘Not through me, though!’ Harry protested and there were tears in his eyes again. 

‘I know, my love. We can make love in all sorts of different ways though. I can do exactly the same things to him that I’ve done to you so he knows precisely what it feels like.’ 

‘Really?’

‘Of course, if you wish.’ 

‘Thank you.’ He embraced the headmaster. ‘I love you, Professor. You know that, don’t you? It wasn’t just because I felt so sad and lonely.’ 

‘I love you, too, Harry. I love you very much.’ 

‘Rowan loves you too. You and Fawkes. He told me. He’s loved you for ages.’ 

Fawkes quivered under Harry’s fingers. ‘I know.’ 

Dumbledore pulled the duvet back up over Harry, tucking him in tenderly, and lay down beside him. Harry found himself sandwiched between the headmaster and his daemon, surrounded by their warmth. 

‘Albus,’ he whispered. ‘Can I call you Albus?’ 

‘I think you must, given our position.’ 

‘Thank you for this. I never thought you would. At least, not until I was much older.’

‘I shouldn’t have, but I thought you needed me. Right now. Not in a year’s time, when you’re no longer a student. I’m not going to feel guilty about it.’

‘I’m glad.’

‘Don’t you mind that I’m so much older than you? It doesn’t much signify with Fawkes, but you can see the age on me. All these wrinkles and white hair.’ 

‘I don’t mind at all,’ Harry sighed. ‘I just want you to be with you. And Rowan. All of us, like you said. We can be together like that, can’t we?’ 

‘Yes. I promise.’ 


End file.
